


We're in a war that can't be won

by orphan_account



Series: Smalltown Superhero [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things start falling into place for Camelot's intrepid reporters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're in a war that can't be won

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this is from Sum 41’s _Still Waiting_. We're still kind of in an angsty place, but things should start picking up soon.

The low lighting and near-silence of the newsroom at night could only do so much to stave off his impending headache, though he had hopes that caffeine might help. Rubbing newsprint-stained fingers against the skin beneath the reading glasses Arthur refused to wear around anyone but his family and his oddball investigative partner, he accepted the cup of coffee held out in his direction and continued to stare into the unyielding text upon his computer screen. “I swear, every time it feels like we’re getting somewhere, there’s another dead end. This ‘Faerie Queen’ is buried under so much red tape - how is it possible for one criminal to have such protection? Is she even real? Or some sort of... I don’t know. Distraction from something else? What are we missing?”  
  
“She’s definitely real, Arthur,” Merlin affirmed darkly, remembering the way his partner’s body had looked tied up and almost lifeless on the warehouse floor. “But maybe that’s what we should focus on for a while - the companies and the politicians who keep covering for her.” He took a risk, placing his hand on the back of his partner’s chair, and was rewarded by - nothing. Arthur simply continued scrolling doggedly through the information on the screen. It was as though the point of contact between his hand and Arthur’s  back was utterly inconsequential. Merlin wasn’t sure whether he wanted to sigh in relief or to make something explode. On the one hand, he felt grateful Arthur chose not to jerk away or make some cutting remark. On the other - how long was he going to remain stubbornly unaffected by every shy advance Merlin made? Was he truly indifferent?  
  
Moments later, he thought he might have his answer. Arthur went completely still, and even as Merlin prepared to withdraw his hand, he heard, “Tell me that I’m reading this wrong.”  
  
Merlin glanced at the profile which was currently rigid with agitation, then to the monitor, eagerness and dread warring in his mind. After nearly a month, had Arthur finally stumbled on something definitive? Some sign that the Faerie Queen was not only a real person, but his own half-sister? Inhaling swiftly, Merlin told his partner, “I wish I could.” He couldn’t, though. Like all organizations, the Faerie Queen’s enterprises required funding, and Arthur had managed to trace several branches of her organization back to the inheritance Gorlois left the little girl he believed was his daughter when he died.  
  
Stunned, Arthur could do nothing but sit and read over the evidence until it felt as though it had been seared within his consciousness. The cup of coffee was in serious danger of spilling its contents onto the pristine ivory carpet of the newsroom floor, but Merlin swooped down to save it at the last minute. Feeling Merlin’s hands gently removing the still-hot cup from his own, Arthur stirred, pulling off his reading glasses with unsteady fingers. “I have to - I can’t,” unable to finish the thought aloud, he rose from his chair and headed for the elevator, ignoring the concerned inquiries of his partner. There were only so many places he would go when he felt like this - either Merlin would figure it out, or he wouldn’t.  
  
Gasping for air - why was it so hard to breathe? Why was the world spinning? Why would Mo - he cut that thought off and grasped at the stone wall that was all that prevented him from falling straight from the Camelot Press rooftop. Scant labored breaths later, he felt the same hand from before land upon his back, but this time, he acknowledged the person to whom it belonged. “How could she do this?”  
  
It was silent between them until Merlin sighed and told him, “I don’t know. Maybe everything that happened a few years ago was just too much for her and she just... snapped.” The year that Merlin joined the Camelot Press, Ascetir Daily released the scandal of the journalistic world, lambasting Uther Penn for his affair with his late investor and best friend Gorlois’ wife and revealing Morgana’s true parentage. A few months later, the Faerie Queen committed her first crime, straining relations between the magical and non-magical people of the United Kingdom. It was this that prompted Merlin to become Superboy, in the hopes that he might protect the people of his home from misguided sorcerers and help heal the breach between those with and those without magic.  
  
“What am I going to do? She’s my sister, I can’t...” Closing his eyes, Arthur stopped to sort through everything going through his head.   
  
“Look, if you want to just...” Merlin’s voice tapered off, knowing how his suggestion would be taken, and hating that the possibility had even crossed his mind.  
  
Arthur confirmed his prediction when he demanded, “To just what? To drop it? Pretend I don’t know the truth? I can’t do that, even if she is my -”  
  
“Your family.”  
  
Swallowing, Arthur muttered, “Yeah. That.”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be you, you know. Given the right information, any journalist could write that article. We could send what we have to someone else, wash our hands of the whole thing.” Now that he had said it, Merlin wondered why the idea had never occurred to him before. He could have continued distracting Arthur from the investigation and quietly concluded it on his own before offering to share his findings with a journalist from another paper. It would have been the perfect solution, but for the bitter taste of betrayal the mere _idea_ of it left in his mouth.  
  
Arthur would have none of it. “No. This started with a member of my family, and it’s going to end that way. I won’t allow anyone else to suffer for the wrongs the Penns have committed.”  
  
 _And this is why I can’t seem to get over you_. “If you’re sure.”  
  
“I’m sure.”


End file.
